Shimmer
by Alice Elliot
Summary: Tracing Hisoka's emotional development throughout the stages of his relationship with Tsuzuki. Tsusoka, one-shot.


The light streaming in through Hisoka's windows had never seemed quite this bright before. As a matter of fact, he wasn't certain that what had served as his only portal to the outside world for so long could really be considered a window. As such, the glare of the morning sun that besieged his room, which had been quite dark just a moment ago, came as a surprise to him. He wasn't sure if he should feel happy about it or not. In the end, he decided it just made his eyes burn.

Many other useless revelations such as this followed during Hisoka's first few days in Meifu, as he was pushed through a whirlwind of departments, told a million different things far too quickly to absorb more than half of them, and finally shoved into the position he had once rejected, but now reluctantly welcomed. Some part of him still balked at the idea of becoming a Shinigami, if only because of the connotations he had attached to the world while still living. The phrase brought to mind some sort of eerie grim reaper, the kind of being that made young children shiver and grasp hold of their mother's knees. Now, Hisoka chuckled a little at the thought, feeling nearly bitter. Who would have thought they really existed, that any of this really existed?

Some part of his nature chided himself for these kinds of thoughts, for this pointless bafflement and confusion, when he should really be able to adapt better. Another part of his consciousness thought that he deserved some leeway after waking up only to remember that he was dead.

This state of bewilderment had persisted until his superiors had declared him briefed enough to be thrown head-first into field work, without so much as an introduction to the person he'd be working with from then on. Alright, he rationalized, he could handle that. The teenager that hid somewhere in his psyche was absolutely terrified.

Never mind when he actually had met the man that would be his partner, the man who was more like a wave of emotion, one after another, always ebbing and flowing, barely even seeming to recede. He was a liar, a perfect liar, one who almost never let up lying. It had taken Hisoka their entire first mission together to figure this out, to make any sort of sense of what he felt from (and for, although he could hardly acknowledge this) the other. And, in the end, all he could conclude was that this man was the most complex emotional puzzle the young empath had ever come across. The only solution seemed to be that there was no solution.

Nothing was more puzzling than his seeming acceptance of Hisoka. It terrified him more than anything else in this afterlife had. The child within him that refused to be stamped out entirely cried out in joy. The rest of his mind screamed at him to push this other away.

In the end, he had accepted the hand reached out to him. He didn't understand, and he was petrified. But all the same, Hisoka had needed someone, something, more than he could have expressed, and somehow, Tsuzuki had found him.

* * *

><p>He needed Tsuzuki. By the time that the helicopter had touched down after the Queen Camilla had gone up in flames, there was no longer any way Hisoka could deny that. He was scared, so scared, of needing something as unreliable and mercurial as another person. But no amount of logic, no amount of reason, could deny the feeling of his partner's arms around him, of the solid warmth that he had buried his tears in. He had cried like a child. He had been impossibly weak. He had felt safe for the first time in so long, safe and loved.<p>

Hisoka wanted to hate being so weak and dependent. He pretended that he did.

* * *

><p>It had taken longer for the fact that Tsuzuki needed him too, possibly just as much, to take root in Hisoka's mind. It very well may not have been until the man whom he admired for possessing what seemed to be infinite strength had fallen to the ground, helpless and shaking, unable to accept the death of another innocent. After that, Hisoka realized that he had been needed. Tsuzuki had needed him, and he had failed.<p>

Failure was not something he forgot easily, a discipline from his youth that would remain a permanent fixture in his psyche.

* * *

><p><em>I won't fail him this time.<em>

Tsuzuki really hadn't been like the others, like anyone else he had met before or after his death. It still scared him, and it still mystified him, but he knew that there was love between them. Now that he could feel that once lively wave of feeling being inundated by an even more crushing force of despair and emptiness, Hisoka's whole being cried out for the partner he had lost. But he wouldn't give up, Tatsumi had freed him from the bonds of his own pessimism, a form of weakness in and of itself, and now he saw what he needed to do. He wouldn't run away.

_Not when he needs me._

Once he thought about living on without Tsuzuki to bother him, worry over him, surprise him, brush past those last vestiges of stubborn desire for isolation, give him a million reasons to leave, but even more to stay… It became impossible for Hisoka to imagine doing anything but jumping straight into the impossible heat of black flame.

* * *

><p>Now, as he blinked wearily, his eyes adjusting to the dimmed light filtering in through a light set of curtains, Hisoka could feel the pleasant warmth of his partner's arms around him. Knowing that no one would see, he smiled, a totally honest but still somehow timid and small gesture compared to the way Tsuzuki's face lit up with joy when he smiled. Even if he tried to chastise him and remind him that physical contact was not always the best experience for an empath, it seemed it was impossible for the affectionate man not to latch on in his sleep. Hisoka wasn't sure how long he could continue to pretend he minded so much.<p>

It was hard for Hisoka to think that this was the same person he had clung to in those fires, now years ago. It was painful to imagine that this vibrant warmth had once nearly vanished entirely from his life, had once been replaced by something impossibly cold. He didn't dwell on it anymore, but he knew that neither of them forgot, either.

Things were alright now. It had taken so long, there had been so many barriers, and so many remained still, but things were fine where they were for now. Being partners-who-loved-each-other-and-snuggled-once-in-a-while was fine with both of them at the moment. Honestly, there were still countless reservations and fears he harbored, and he wasn't sure he was quite ready to let go of them yet. On mornings like this, waking from a slumber free of nightmares to warm and loving emotions enveloping him, Hisoka really wanted to let them all go.

As he listened to his partner's breathing, slow and deep, still fast asleep, he thought that maybe he would, maybe it would be soon.

With the addition of curtains and the passage of time, the young Shinigami's eyes had long grown accustomed to the light of the morning sun. That particular morning, so long after his first morning in Meifu, he felt foolishly emotional under the warmth of its rays. He told himself it was just his partner's loud emotions bleeding into his own thoughts. He told himself the same thing about the faint smile that wouldn't seem to fade from his face, which wore a scowl far more comfortably.

In some part of his mind, Hisoka couldn't make himself care about making these excuses. He noted, not entirely unhappily, that this part had been making itself more prominent lately.

_Someday_, _maybe soon_, he thought, as he closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of the other there with him.


End file.
